


Barefoot

by DeadlyBingo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Olicity Fluff, arrow 3x23, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:30:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6552913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadlyBingo/pseuds/DeadlyBingo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Immediately following 3x23, Felicity wakes up to the smell of pancakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barefoot

It had taken Felicity longer than she would ever admit to pick out her clothes that morning.  Of course she had considered not wearing _anything_ , but she wasn’t quite sure she and Oliver had reached that point in their relationship.  After all, they _had_ only been dating about 14 hours.

That was, if she even could call it _dating_?  There hadn’t exactly been that conversation yet but what else would “will you run away with me and leave the vigilante life behind” qualify as? A _really_ good friendship? With benefits? No, this _had_ to be dating… right?

She and Oliver had separated only briefly after their decision the previous evening.  Oliver had gone to say goodbye to his sister and to grab his passport from the loft (he insisted he didn’t need anything else for a fresh start) and Felicity had run home to grab the essentials (mostly some clothes, her plethora of makeup, and of _course_ her laptop).  They had hoped that by separating briefly they could be back together and on the road to their new lives that much sooner.

But that plan didn’t work.  

Unfortunately for their schedule (or _very_ fortunately in Felicity’s opinion) shortly after Oliver arrived to pick Felicity up, they got… distracted.  And that distraction lasted throughout the rest of the night, interrupted sporadically by excited talks of the adventures they would go on or a quick nap with Felicity resting on Oliver’s chest.  

So Felicity was surprised when she had woken up in the morning to an empty bed. But a fresh mug of coffee steaming on her bedside table and the soft sound of music playing in the kitchen quickly assured her that Oliver hadn’t gotten cold feet. He had just gotten hungry.

After digging through her underwear drawer (and throwing a few more cute pieces into her travel bag), Felicity determined a pair of boyshorts and a cotton tee-shirt would have to do.  After all, any kind of lingerie seemed out of the question before 8am and ‘real’ clothes were far too formal for this kind of morning.

“This is it… this is _really_ happening.  This is _normal_ now…” Felicity mumbled to herself as her hand hovered over the doorknob.  

As much as she wanted to see him, _needed_ to touch him again, the butterflies in her stomach kept reminding her how new this all was. That just 24 hours ago, _all_ of this seemed like an impossible dream and a small part of her was still afraid it could disappear just as quickly if Oliver changed his mind.

But he wouldn’t.  She had to try to believe that.

Though Oliver didn’t turn around when she opened the door, the muscles of his back tightened ever so slightly in reaction to her gaze. Felicity swore she could even see a hint of red creeping up his neck.  She couldn’t help but wonder if she really had _that_ strong of an effect on him? Had he _always_ done that around her? Or was this just an effect of the previous night?

Normally Felicity would be distracted by Oliver’s bare back.  As many times as she had seen it, she never got tired of running her eyes over the landscape of his muscles, lingering on his scars and tattoos, and struggling to keep her mind off what else she couldn’t see at that moment.  But now her eyes were drawn to something else.  Something less shocking to the average eye, but completely new to her.  

He was _barefoot_.  

A man who had always been on the move, ready to run or chase or climb as the situation called for it, looked like nothing in the world could convince him to move from that very spot.  He seemed _comfortable_.  He even seemed at _home_.

She was inclined not to say anything at first, just to stare for a few more minutes.  Something about the visual of Oliver standing barefoot and bare-chested while hovering over the stove felt _almost_ as intimate as everything they had done the previous night.

But she couldn’t wait.  As much as she was enjoying the view, she needed the reassurance of his face.  The reminder of why she was about to abandon her life to run off into the unknown.

“You’re still here…” she greeted, biting back her smile as Oliver turned to face her.  But when she saw his face, an unsuppressed grin already present, she remembered she no longer had to hide her glee every time she saw him. She was not only _allowed_ to feel that joy now, she was allowed to show it.  “ _And_ you’re making pancakes?! I didn’t even know you could cook.”

“I _can’t_ ,” Oliver answered nonchalantly, turning down the heat on the burner before moving towards Felicity at the edge of the kitchen. “I found a box mix in the very back of your cabinet and the directions were easy enough. But I assume real cooking can’t be _that_ hard to learn.  I probably need some new hobbies anyway now that I’ll have more free time.”

“Good thing.   _One_ of us should have some talent in the kitchen, and it _definitely_ won’t be me.  I _burn_ water.  But knowing you, _Oliver_ , you’ll be making chicken cordon bleu in no time.”

Oliver didn’t even attempt to hide it as his eyes fell down and then slowly climbed back up Felicity’s figure.  Sure, she had caught him checking her out _plenty_ of times in the past, especially when her skirts were on the shorter side, but the smirk on his face told her he was enjoying no longer having to hide the act. And as much as men doing to same thing to her in the past had made her feel awkward, there was something about the look on Oliver’s face, the unfiltered appreciation, that made her feel beautiful.

By the time Oliver’s eyes had once again met her eyes, his hand was already reaching around her lower back and drawing her in for a good morning kiss.

“I think I’m _already_ used to this,” he hummed, his smile breaking off their lips apart. “Is that weird? Do _normal_ couples feel that way so quickly?”

“I don’t think we should start trying to compare ourselves to _normal_ couples-” Felicity mused, taking a step back from Oliver so she could think.  She’d clearly have to work on being able to gather her thoughts with Oliver so close to her.  “I mean, we _can_ call ourselves a couple now, right? But we are definitely not _normal_. Let’s not even start on how we met. Or that time I found you bleeding in my car?   _Or_ our _disaster_ of a first date. Normal couples _definitely_ do not almost get blown up on their first date? I have to assume that ‘normal couples’ would take that as some kind of sign from God-” Felicity took a breath, noticing the amused glimmer in Oliver’s eyes. “But I think it’s good, us being comfortable is good,” she finished with a sigh.

“I would agree, we’re _good_ ,” Oliver approved, kissing Felicity’s forehead before stepping away to effortlessly flip two pancakes.   _Of course he would be a natural at cooking too._

“You know, you can tell me to shut up any time…” she reminded him. “If we’re going to be together so much and I’m _always_ rambling you’re bound to get sick of it at _some_ point.  I’m pretty sure the only person who _hasn’t_ told me to stop talking at some point is my mother, and let’s be honest, that’s only because she’s too busy talking _herself_.”

“Never, Felicity. Please keep talking, always.  I like hearing your voice.”

“You do? You’re _sure_ you’re not just saying that?”

Oliver turned off the burner before making his way back to Felicity, reaching his hand out and drawing her toward him as if he couldn’t wait for his feet to make up the distance on their own.

“I like absolutely _every_ _sound_ you make.”

Felicity noticed the suggestive smirk on Oliver’s lips before his words registered.  She hadn’t actually _thought_ about last night’s sounds yet.  And there had definitely been _plenty_ of them to perseverate over. Maybe it was a good thing she was moving? The elderly neighbors could not have appreciated their noise levels.

Felicity could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, but before she could even lower her face to hide the blushing, Oliver’s finger hooked her chin and tilted her eyes back up to meet his.

“Please, _never_ try to change for me.  I’m awfully attached to you just to way you are.”

“You’re sure you don’t regret it? Wanting to leave? Wanting _me_ to leave with you?”

“Regret? You?” Oliver let out a laugh, one more carefree, more genuine, than any of her jokes had ever made him release, “ _Never_ Felicity,” Oliver murmured, bringing his lips closer to hers, “I could _never_ regret you.”

And Felicity knew she felt the same.  Sure, there were things about this new adventure that scared the hell out of her, but the best adventures always had an element of surprise.  And if her last journey led her to this moment, then taking the risks were definitely worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the olicity fic challenge on Tumblr. You can check out the rest of my work on there at DeadlyBingo!


End file.
